The Phantom of the Red Mill
by LiltingBanshee
Summary: They said it was a place for the creatures of the underworld. The irony made him laugh bitterly, it was like he was meant to be there. A story of Erik´s life after the opera house fire.
1. For the creatures of the underworld

**The Phantom of the Red Mill.**

by LiltingBanshee

**Author´s note: Ok, I decided to do a story that is a little different from my other stories****  
****(meaning it doesn´t involve Erik and Christine having a baby together), but I hope some of you will read it anyway:)****  
****There will be a slight alteration in history to make my story fit. I know the Moulin Rouge first opened in 1889, but that doesn´t really work with my plot, humour me ok...****  
****And please let me know what you think of it...:)**

In the middle of the night with the cold rain pouring down it didn´t look to be the wonderful place that everyone said it was.  
Well, those who truly found it wonderful was probably only those men who had money enough to pay their way through a night of entertainment in every way. One night of joy to escape their responsibilities and problems.  
He doubted that it was just as wonderful for those people who were forced to work there to ensure their existance.

He sighed, he was now one of those who were forced to to apply for a job to keep from starving or freezing to death. He had been dead inside for years, but God had not bothered to end his miserable life no matter how many times he had prayed for it.  
The first time he had ever truly wished himself dead was that night many years ago when _she_ had left him.  
Yes, he _had_ let her go, but she had gone willingly and only returned for a second to, for some reason, give him her ring. A gesture he had never fully understood.  
Oh how he had wished to die that night, but God had let him escape both the fire and the angry mob. He had been emotionally wrecked for years after that. Only the gentle care from his long time friend ans saviour Antoinette Giry had kept him alive. Her precious daughter, little Meg Giry had not given up on her career and had secured herself a good position in an Italian ballet troupe. Madame Giry had turned down her offer to follow her due to her slightly poor health and her desire to care for _him_. Together they had lived a poor, but manageable life.

When Antoinette had drawn her last breath a few years ago he had again prayed for God to end his life. Again God had failed to answer him. He could of course have taken his own life, but he had once been a proud man and whatever little pride he still posessed kept him from it.  
Now it had come to this. He was alone, without money or a place to live.

'It´s a place for the creatures of the underworld. Everyone are welcome there.'  
That was what the drunk old man in the bar had said to him a couple of nights ago. He let out a bitter laugh at the irony of the whole thing.

'A creature of the underworld!' Wasn´t that what he had been all his life.

The Devil´s Child – a childhood he wished to forget all about.

For an amount of years he had been the King of the underworld. That was at least how he liked to think of it.  
His beautiful lair from where the greatest music had flown. A place where he had felt safe and which had seemed even more special to him on the rare occasions where _she_ had been there.

Her sweet beautiful face and her long dark curls that he had always wished to run his fingers through whenever she was near him.

Those days were over. She was probably living a happy secured life with her loving husband and a bunch of sweet children. That was what he had wanted for her. It was something he could never have offered her. Ever since that night he had lived on the bottom of society and now he was forced to go back to beg for a job in a place that made money on it´s visitors´amusement.  
His only comfort was that this time it hopefully wouldn´t be his face they would pay to see.

His emotions were taking over and he knew it. With an angry growl he turned his face away from the Moulin Rouge. He was in no mental shape for asking for a job tonight, instead he would find shelter for the rain and then try his luck tomorrow.

The rain continued through the night and the water was still dripping from the trees when he made his way through the wet streets of Montmartre. He coughed and pulled the slightly torn cape closer around his body. Another night in an alley surrounded by drunks and whores had not offered him much sleep. He was not young anymore, he could feel his body reacting to the rought restless nights and it remained a mystery to him why he had been spared from the consumption that killed so many people around him.

Before he knew it he was once again staring at the wings of the red mill. What little glamour that had been about the place on a rainy night had completely disappeared in the morning hours.  
He carefully knocked on the wooden door and waited.  
After a few minutes the door was slowly opened and he felt himself nearly pass out at the sight that met him.

That face. Those curls.

"Christine...?" he gasped.


	2. A new life

**The Phantom of the Red Mill**

by LiltingBanshee

**Author´s note: Thanks to phantomann and des ires for your reviews:)**

"Excuse me?" the girl raised an eyebrow at him with a puzzled look.

In his mind Christine had never grown older than the 16 year old she had been the night she left him, though he knew that in reality she would be older now.  
As he looked at the girl in front of him he realized she was not a day over 16.

"Forgive me, I thought you were someone else" he apologized.

The girl offered him a wee smile" We are closed now Monsieur, but is there anything I can help you with?" she asked.

"I am looking for a job. I can play music if you need any musicians, but any kind of job would be fine" he said and winced at the desperate sound of it.

"Our manager is not out of his bed yet, but if you like you can come inside, it's awfully cold out there after the storm last night" she opened the door a little further to let him in and he gladly accepted the offer.

"Thank you Mademoiselle, my name is Erik" he smiled at her.

"Pleased to meet you Erik, my name is Adora" she said.

"That's a beautiful name" Erik said geniually.

"Thank you, my mother picked it…" she said and he noticed a sad look pass over her eyes.

"Is your mother working here as well?" he asked her.

"No, I have no parents. My mother is dead and my father threw me out of the house. I have been living here since I was 12 years old" she said quietly.

"I´m very sorry to hear that. So you work here all on your own?" he said sincerely.

"Yes, the manager takes good care of me" she said. "Would you like a cup of tea Erik? Or do you prefer liquor though it's early morning?"

He smiled at her. "Tea would be fine, if it's no trouble for you."

A few minutes later she placed a cup in front of him and sat down opposite him at the table he had chosen.

"So what is your job here Adora?" he asked her.

"I do mostly housekeeping work. I clean the bar and dance hall in the mornings and then help with the laundry and cleaning of rooms. Some nights I have to dance along with the other girls" she said.

"And do you also have to entertain costumers?" he asked with care.

"You mean the men? No, the manager says I'm too young for that. I'm only 15. As I said he takes good care of me and says I won't have to work like that until I turn 18" she explained.

Erik felt a strange sense of relief at knowing she didn't have to endure that at such a young age. He had come across many prostitutes in the streets who were even younger than Adora.  
They sat in silence for a while until Adora put her cup down.

"You will have to excuse me Erik, I have to continue with my chores. Please sit here and relax. I´m sure the manager will be up soon" she said and got up.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" he kindly offered.

"Oh no, I'm used to doing this. You really look like you could use some rest" she said with a little smile.

He did need rest and not long after Adora had left to fetch a bucket of water to sweep the floor he felt his eyelids droop and was soon asleep over the table.

_The sun was shining and the young woman sat on a blanket in a blossoming garden. Three older children were playing with her husband while she fed the little baby in her arms.  
Suddenly the sky clouded over and the wind picked up. In a flash the children and man disappeared leaving the woman alone in the garden. She started crying helplessly for her lost family. He stretched out a hand to comfort her, but no matter what he did he could not reach her.  
_"_Don´t cry Christine, I´m here."  
_"_Christine…Christine…"_

"Christine…"

"Erik! Erik wake up, you´re dreaming." Erik opened his eyes to see Adora standing there shaking his shoulder gently. There was a concerned look in her brown eyes and he felt bad for scaring her.  
He attempted a smile and straightened his aching back.

"Erik I have just spoken to the manager. He is awake and will be down to speak to you shortly" she said softly.

"Thank you Adora" he said tiredly. She smiled and continued to wash off the tables.

He looked at her. She was strikingly beautiful. Fairly tall for a 15 year old and her skinny, too skinny in his opinion, body had already begun to show female forms. Her long dark brown curls came almost to her waist and were tied up with a random piece of fabric.  
The gray dress she wore was old and torn, but it was probably best for the cleaning job.  
She definitely did not belong in this place. She should not be a creature of the underworld.  
As he studied her he could not find any faults on her body that would cause society to point fingers at her like it had at him for 46 years.  
But an orphan was not better off than any other outcast. With a mother cold in her grave and a father who obviously had not loved her enough to provide for her she had probably had no other choice than to come here.

"Adora my darling, where is our guest?" a man's voice dragged him from his thoughts and he saw a little plumb black haired man decent from the stairs.

"Ah, it must be you" he said before either Adora or Erik had a chance to respond. He grabbed Erik's hand firmly and shook it.

"Hello Monsieur, welcome to the Moulin Rouge. I am Charles Zidler, the owner of this sinful place. My sweet little dove informed me that you were looking for work" the man said.

"Yes Monsieur Zidler. My name is Erik and I'm a musician. I master the organ, piano and violin should you need such a musician. If not, I should be happy to take any sort of work you can offer" he said.

"Well, we have recently lost our pianist to the dreaded consumption. That horrible disease is common among us lower class beings. Are you in good health Erik?" Zidler asked with concern.

"I believe I have stayed clear of the consumption so far Monsieur Zidler. Apart from a stiff back due to many restless night on cold sidewalks I should be in good health" Erik assured him.

"That's good to hear. If you are interested I shall let you join the band tonight on the piano. Relax and get a feel of the music. In the beginning I shall pay you 200 francs an month" Zidler said.

He had once been paid 20.000 francs a month, but 200 were better than none at all.

"I am only happy to accept your generous offer" he said thankfully.

"Great, that is settled then! I will see you tonight" Zidler said and turned to leave.

"Charles, I think Monsieur Erik would need a place to stay" Adora´s voice caught their attention.

"Well of course. We have a free room. Adora will show you upstairs" the man said with a smile and went to Adora.  
He padded her cheek gently. "Will you prepare the room my dear? After that you can go and have a rest. I will need you in the dance routine tonight. Rosa had an unfortunate encounter with a costumer last night and will not be able to perform for a few days." Adora nodded and Zidler turned to Erik. " Very good, now you will have to excuse me, I have matters to attend to. I will see you tonight" with that he left the room.

"He is a joyful man" Erik said thoughtfully.

"He is a good man. He accepts all kinds of people regardless of whatever faults or issues they might have. I think you will like working for him" Adora said.

"It will be a new thing for me to work for someone I like" Erik said gloomingly.

"Have you worked for many bad employers?" Adora asked.

"My first employer, if you could even call him that, was a monster. Fortunately he got what he deserved. After that I provided for myself an rather controversial ways" he said.

"What do you mean controversial?" Adora asked curiously.

"That is something we shouldn't speak about" he said with a slight warning in his voice.

"I guess we all have out little secrets" she shrugged. "Come on Erik, I will take you upstairs to your room."

It wasn't much. A little room with a bed, a table and a little bowl for a light wash.

'There is bathing facilities further down the hall' Adora had informed him.

He sighed, it was good enough for him and much better than the cold cobblestones he used to sleep on. He had never really been used to beds, the only bed her had ever truly had a peaceful sleep in was the beautiful swan bed beneath the opera house.  
The few times _she _had slept in that bed the sheets had carried the fresh smell of her body.  
At those occasions he had curled up in the bed to inhale her scent and after that he had surrendered to a peaceful slumber.

Glancing around to make sure no one was there he carefully removed his mask and ran a hand over his tired face. He caught a look at himself in the tiny mirror on the wall and winced.  
The scars were one thing, they had always been there, but the blood-shot eyes and dirty hair made him look even more like a monster.  
"Straight out of hell" he muttered and threw the mask on the bed.  
The once white mask had seen better days as well. He would have to clean it as well as he could. He really did not wish to look like he had just stepped out of the gutter on the first night of his new job.

He was startled out of his thought by a knock on the door.

"Just a minute" he shouted and desperately reached for his mask. He had only just put it on when Adora peeked into the room.

"I have prepared a bath for you Erik, I thought you might need one. I have also found some clothes that will fit you. If you give me the old ones I'll make sure to clean them.

He flashed her a grateful smile. "Thank you, you´re very kind."

She smiled shyly. "You better come before the water gets cold."

He followed her through the corridor to a room that was slightly bigger than his and contained two zinc tubs, one of them filled with heated water.  
He gestured for her to turn around while he undressed and he couldn´t help but smile at the blush that crept into her cheeks as she turned her back to him.  
When she heard him settle in the water she slowly turned around to retrieve the bundle of dirty clothes. Just before she left she reached for the mask.

"No" Erik said in a warning tone and turned his face away.

"But Erik, it's dirty" Adora tried.

"I will take care of it Adora. You must never touch the mask" he said sternly.

"I´m sorry, there is soap and a sponge here. I will see you later" Adora quickly left the room and he felt bad for speaking harshly to her, she had only wanted to help.  
No, he could not risk anyone seeing his face. He was desperately clinging to the last straw of security he had. The Moulin Rouge would provide him with food, shelter and money. Whatever reason everyone else had for being here he was certain none of them could compare to a deformed murderer!  
For that was what he was.  
Buquet. Piangi. Two lives taken in the blindness of love. A desperate and foolish attempt to win her heart.  
How could he ever have been stupid enough to think she would love him after that! She was a creature of innocence. She would never have ended her days in a cold dungeon by his side.

As if that was not enough he had killed again years later.

It was shortly after Antoinette´s death. He was grieving, but that was no excuse.  
She couldn't have been more than 25 years old and for days after the incident he had wept for her blood on his hands.

He had been asleep, blind drunk from the cheap brandy he had used to drown his sorrows. Through his drunken slumber he had registered someone touching him. When he opened his eyes he had seen her, a filthy drunk whore, rummaging through his pockets in search of money. She had not found any, but she had found _it. _As he had seen the satisfied smirk on her face when she held up the sparkling diamante ring he had gone mad with rage. He doubted she had registered what had happened as he snapped her neck with his skilled hands and left her lifeless body there in the alley as he ran.

He started rubbing the sponge harder against his skin. That was all in the past now. He would forget and see what life in this place had to offer.


	3. First night at the Moulin Rouge

**The Phantom of the Red Mill**

by LiltingBanshee

He sat at the piano, his gaze wandering from the ivory keys to the dancing girls.  
He had been watching dancers for years. How the little ballet rats had moved with grace and certainty over the stage. He had never taken much interest in the ballet routines, except when _she_ had been a part of them.  
But as he watched these girls perform he couldn't help feeling drawn to them. They moved with the same grace and certainty in their steps as the little ballerinas always had, but unlike what he had seen back at the opera house there was nothing chaste and innocent about this performance.  
The daring moves were most certainly mean for catching the attention of the male audience and he chuckled at how easily the girls succeeded in doing just that.  
Their skimpy dresses didn't leave much to imagination either and he believed the men were having a great time.

After the routine finished the girls began to mingle with the costumers and the band played dance music so they could ask them to the dance floor.  
He didn't find it difficult to follow the music; he had after all always had a perfect ear for music and found himself enjoying playing some rather cheerful music for a change.  
A few minutes later he felt someone sit down next to him on the piano bench and turned his head to find Adora smiling at him.  
She was sweating from having danced and a few damp curls had escaped the velvet band that held her hair away from her face. The dress she wore was quite different from the old one he had seen her in this morning.  
It was black and had a long sleeve that covered her right arm while only a little strap over her left shoulder held it in place on that side. The bodice was covered in several pearls and sequins and she was wearing make-up that made her look nothing like the child she was.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" she asked with a happy smile.

"Yes, I'm fine. And you? You seemed to be having fun out there" he said and gestured at the dance floor.

"Oh yes, I love to dance, it makes me feel so free" she said dreamingly.

He could easily picture her as a ballet dancer on the stage of the opera. She still had that innocence that all the other girls here lacked. He smiled at the thought.

"My mother used to dance. She always told me how much she liked it and she even taught me a few steps when I was little. She had to stop when she married Papa. He said that dancing was no better than prostitution and was only meant for making men look at your body" she sighed.

"Don't believe that Adora! Dancing is an art form and there are many well respected dancers in this city" he said, once again feeling anger towards her useless father.

"Thank you Erik, you're a good man" she said and touched his arm lightly. "I must go to my bed now; I have to get up early and clean. Enjoy the rest of the night" she left and he watched her as she skillfully avoided the drunken costumers and walked upstairs.

Many hours later in the early morning he made his way upstairs to his room. As he walked down the corridor he stopped in front of the door to Adora's room. Carefully he opened the door and peeked inside. She was sound asleep in the bed, tightly hugging the blankets close to her body to avoid the chilly draft from the little window she had forgotten to close.   
He walked silently across the room to close it. On his way back he stopped beside the bed and looked down at her.  
She looked awfully sweet. With all the make-up removed and her little form curled up in her sleep she looked so fragile and seemed much younger than 15.  
He had always liked children, but knew he was very unlikely to ever be blessed with one of his own. Not that he would ever wish to curse a child with his face anyway!  
He remembered many years ago when little Meg was born. Antoinette's husband had died shortly after the birth of their daughter and she had been raised at the opera house alone with her mother. Some nights Antoinette was so tired after rehearsing with the ballet girls and taking care of her young child that he wouldn't hear the baby crying at night. On those nights we would enter the little apartment she had at the opera house and scoop the wailing baby into his arms. He would sing to her until she quieted down and when she was again asleep he would affectionately kiss her forehead and put her back in her crib.  
When Christine had come to live at the opera house his earliest feelings towards her had also been those of fatherly love and protection.

He smiled weakly at the memories. Was this what she would have looked like if he and Christine had ever made a daughter together? Like this little angel sleeping before his eyes? Her long dark curls tangled around her face and her little pink lips slightly parted as she was breathing evenly. She probably would – except those hideous scars would have covered the right side of her face!  
This child was blessed, her face sweet and beautiful, just like Christine's. He reached down and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She stirred a little and a smile formed on her lips.

"Sweet dreams little angel" he whispered before he left.

Back in his own room he undressed and settled under the blankets. As he had done every night for more years than he cared to remember he kissed the sparkling diamante ring before he drifted off to sleep.


	4. Why God?

**The Phantom of the Red Mill**

by LiltingBanshee

Weeks turned into months and he found himself beginning to settle in his new home. He got along well with the other musicians and he was enjoying working for Charles Zidler.  
In the beginning Erik had caught him staring at the mask a few times, but he had never questioned the reason he wore it and as time went by he seemed to get used to it. . Everyone else at the Moulin Rouge seemed to follow Zidler's example and some of the girls ever appeared to have some sort of fascination with it. One of the girl, Rosa, was trying to get very close to him. She was quite attractive, he had to admit that and he found himself playing along with her obvious flirtation. She was very frank in her way of handling men and it was no wonder to him why she had gotten in trouble with that costumer the night before he first got here.  
As much as he enjoyed her company he never allowed it to go too fat though.

In his life he had had his share of whores. In the dark years that had followed the night of the fire he had been a frequent guest to the brothels. Antoinette had never verbally commented on his actions, but he never doubted that she disapproved. Her eyes said everything.  
Every time he had returned from the nightly escapades he had been heartbroken and had taken to the drink to drown his sorrows, for no matter how many girls he bought it would never be the girl he truly wished to share that passion with.

It was morning; the first rays of sun hit the ground of the little yard of the Moulin Rouge. Though a warm day was too much to hope for it would at least be bright.  
Erik inhaled the fresh air as he sat down in a chair and placed a violin case in his lap.  
Francoise, the violinist had told him he had an old violin Erik could buy for a few francs. He had spent a couple of weeks on fixing it and now it was ready to be tested.

After a few squeaking sounds the music began to flow from the string and Erik sighed contentedly and closed his eyes.  
He had no idea how long he had been absorbed in his own little world when he suddenly felt a presence behind him. He lowered to bow from the string and turned to see Adora.

"It´s beautiful. So different from the other kind of music you play here. What was it?" he half whispered.

"It's a tune I composed once when I was younger" he smiled at her.

"Maman used to say she loved violin, that it would always make her feel safe" she said.

"Many people are fascinated by this instrument because of the fine line between the horrible sounds and beautiful music you can produce from it" Erik said.

"Well, you certainly have a gift for finding the most pure tones" Adora smiled and sat down on the ground in front of him.

He played a couple of other tunes for her and smiled to himself as she leaned her head on his knees with a satisfied smile on her lips.  
He put the instrument aside and caressed her cheek carefully.

"Don't fall asleep now dear, the ground is much too cold for you to sit on" he said and helped her to stand.

"You're right Erik; I should go back inside and rest before tonight. Thank you for the wonderful music" she kissed his cheek gently before she left and he felt heat spread in his body.

A few minutes later he made his way upstairs to put the violin away. As he passed her door he noticed it was slightly open. Something drew him to it, though he knew it was terribly wrong to spy on her.  
Standing close to the door he caught sight of her in the process of changing her clothes.  
He felt his mouth go dry, but it was not from the sight of her young body.  
She stood with her back to him and as she lifted her chemise over her head he saw them!

Scars.  
Red scars covered the right side of her torso and her right arm. She was still wearing her petticoat, but he could imagine the scars covering her right leg as well.

They didn't look to be results of beating. Could they be? Was this child born with this deformity?

Quickly he retreated to his own room, closed the door and leaned against it.

'Why God? Why must you continue to curse someone with this' he thought angrily.


	5. Hidden talent

**The Phantom of the Red Mill**

by LiltingBanshee

**Author´s note: Thanks for the reviews:)**

He never mentioned to her that he had seen the scars. If he did he would reveal that he had been spying on her in the first place and he still felt terribly embarrassed about doing so.  
The clothes she wore made sense to him now. It was always long sleeved no matter how much she was sweating when she cleaned. And her performance dress, he had thought the one long sleeve on the black dress was a trick of fashion, but it was of course meant to hide the ruined skin.

Even though they were in the same position he could not question her about it. He had harshly brushed her off when she had asked about his mask so it would hardly seem fair to question what she was hiding.  
Instead he kept quiet and they continued to develop their friendship. He kept discovering new sides of her like one morning when he came downstairs to find her singing softly while sweeping the floor.  
She had a clear sweet voice, but it was obviously untrained. He didn't recognize the song, but found it quite beautiful.  
Silently he moved up behind her and grabbed the mop she was holding. Instantly she stopped singing and stilled her movements when she felt his breath on her neck.

"Don't stop" he whispered "It was beautiful, but try to stand up straight."

"Why?" she whispered, trying to find her voice after the shock of him sneaking up on her.

"You can't get the full potential out of your voice if you're bending down over the mop" he explained.

She stared back at him over her shoulder with curious eyes and he took the mop from her.

"Now stand up straight, lift your chin and bring your chest out. Now you can use the full force of your lungs. Try again" he said encouragingly.

"But I don't know what to sing…" she said shyly, blushing terribly.

"Just go with the song you sang before" he smiled.

"But…that was just a lullaby my mother used to sing" she said weakly.

"Adora my dear, even a lullaby can be turned into an aria if you use the right technique" he said.

She started the song and he nodded with a smile to keep her going. She wobbled slightly on some of the notes, but it wasn't bad.

"Now use the muscles in your lower back to support your voice" he put his hands on the small of her back and applied a gentle pressure. "Come on Adora, let it out! You're on the stage of the opera house. Sing!" he said in an enthusiastically raised voice.

She ended the song and he caught her around the waist as she slumped forwards, exhausted from the effort she had made. For a second he thought she was crying, but then realized she was giggling like a little girl.

"What's so funny?" he asked amused.

"Oh my God, I have never tried _anything_ like that before! I never knew I could sing with such power. Oh thank you for showing me Erik!" she grinned and threw her arms around his neck.

"You're welcome my dearest. Your voice is not perfect, but with the right training it could be" he said softly.

"How do you know so much about these things?" she asked.

"Believe it or not, but I used to be a voice teacher" he said and felt a lump form in his throat. "If you like I could train you so you could learn to sing properly without fearing that your voice might break when you hit the high notes" he offered.

"I would love that Erik! Would you really do that?" she exclaimed.

"Yes, I would be delighted to. Consider this your first lesson, we'll continue tomorrow" he smiled.

"This is so exciting! Oh it must have been great for you to teach at the opera house. You must tell me about it some day" she said and immediately regretted when she saw the look on his face.

"Why would you think I taught at the opera house?" he snapped, his face suddenly drained from colour.

"I…you told me…" she tried.

"No, I did not" he said, staring straight into her eyes.

"Well…you said I should imagine I was on stage at the opera house…I just assumed it was where you had worked" she said in a trembling voice.

He contemplated it for a second; she could have made that assumption.

"Forgive me, that was an easy mistake to make. I just wanted to encourage you. I was never at the opera house, I just worked as a common voice teacher" he said and caressed her cheek as an apology.

"All forgiven, I must finish my cleaning now, but I will look forward to my lesson tomorrow" she smiled and picked the mop up from the floor where he had dropped it earlier.

"Yes my sweet, we have a lot to work on" he smiled before he left.

He was still a bit shocked. Could someone really connect him with the Opera Populaire so easily?  
No, it had to be a coincidence. No one could ever know who he had been so many years ago!


	6. A special day

**The Phantom of the Red Mill**

by LiltingBanshee

**Author´s note: Thanx to Twinkle22 and phantomann for your review, and to those of you who are reading this (some of you must be;))**

He made his way through the streets whilehaving a hard time hiding the smile that played on his lips.  
This was going to be so exciting, but he knew he hadn't much time. It was still early and though he felt awfully tired after last night's hard work he was so determined to do this that he wouldn't have been able to sleep anyway.  
She was off cleaning duty today, but he wouldn't be surprised if she was still going to wake up early.

He quickly entered the Moulin Rouge and stopped to listen for a second. No, no one was up yet.  
With a little chuckle he strode to the kitchen area to boil the water for some tea and carefully unwrapped the little package he had held in his hands like it was the most fragile thing in the world.

He put his ear to the door. Still nothing could be heard and as he ever so gently pushed it open he found her sound asleep.  
He tiptoed into the room as quietly as he couldand placed the tray on the little table. Softly sitting down on the edge of the bed he leaned over and placed a loving kiss on her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open and when she saw what had caused her to wake up a wide smile spread across her face.

"Erik…?" she asked puzzled.

"Happy birthday my sweet child" he whispered.

"You remembered…!" she gasped and he smiled at her reaction.

"Of course I remembered, I do pay attention to the things you say" he chuckled.

She turned her head and saw the tray he had brought up. Two cups of tea and a plate with a little lemon tart awaited her.

"Oh Erik, you shouldn't have done all this for me" she whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

"Yes I should, you told me how much you liked lemon tarts and what day would be better for eating one than your 16th birthday" he said gently.

"Thank you so much, no one have ever done anything like that for me" she sniffed and threw her arms around his neck.

He kissed her temple and felt his heart break at what she had just said. This child had been denied love when she needed it most. He was definitely going to change that.

She released him and reached for the plate with a smile. Using the fork he had brought up she divided it in two and offered him the one half. He accepted and they shared a quiet moment while eating the cake and drinking their tea.

"Thank you Erik, that's the best I've ever had" she smiled and put the plate away.

"I'm glad to hear that, now here's a little something for you" he said and produced a beautiful red rose with a black ribbon tied around the stem.

Her eyes widened in delighted surprise as he handed it to her. "Oh that's beautiful, but where did you get that? There are no roses at this time of year" she said and inhaled it's scent.

"I have my ways my dear" he grinned. "That's not all" he handed her a little velvet box and she nearly fell off the bed.

He hadn't thought her eyes could get any bigger, but as she lifted the bracelet out of the box that was exactly what happened. "Oh Erik, that is so amazing" she gasped. The little silver chain was twisted in a way to make it look like sparkling diamonds when the light caught it in the right places. From the chain hung a little pendant shaped like an angel holding a lyre.

"That" he explained pointing at the pendant "is the Angel of Music. No matter where you go in this world he will always be there to protect and encourage you."

She planted a big kiss right on his lips, taking him completely by surprise and then wrapped her arms around his upper body and leaned her head on his chest.  
"I can never thank you enough Erik, this is the most perfect day of my life!" she exclaimed.

He squeezed her thin body gently and smiled, pleased that he had made her so happy. "You deserve it my dear" he whispered.

"I can't believe it, I now have my own Angel of Music" she whispered back.


	7. One fateful night

**The Phantom of the Red Mill**

by LiltingBanshee

"That was lovely Adora, I would say that does it for today" he smiled at her.

"Thank you, I enjoyed that. I fell it much easier to hit the high notes correctly now" she said enthusiastically.

"That's because you're much better trained now, it pays off. Maybe we should talk Zidler into giving you a singing job" he suggested.

She shrugged. "I don't think that would happen. You don't really get recognized for your talents here. Well, at least not those of dancing and singing" she grinned.

"Adora will you watch your mouth! That is not a very ladylike thing to say!" he exclaimed with slight amusement.

"But it's true!" she whined.

"That is not the point, a young girl like you should not be speaking of such things" he said.

"You mean sexual relations? Does it embarrass you when I speak about that?" she asked, a devilish smile forming on her lips and her eyes had a certain sparkle in them.

"No it most certainly does not! I am only trying to educate you" he scolded.

"It does! You're blushing!" she squealed with delight.

"Don't be ridiculous child, men does not blush!" he said in a stern voice.

"Well, you do" she snickered.

"Right, that's it!" he said and lifted her up easily and threw her over his shoulder.

"Erik! What are you doing? Put me down! Now!" she shrieked with laughter.

"No! You would not listen, now you have to suffer the consequences" he grinned as he carried her towards the door to the yard. He walked quickly over to the little fountain and held her dangerously close to the water.

"Erik no! You wouldn't dare" she said with panic, realizing what he was about to do.

"Watch me" he said with a grin and them dumped her in the water. What he hadn'tconsidered was how tightly she clung to his shirt and before he knew it he landed in the water beside her.  
He wiped the water off his face and stared at her as she sat there laughing her head off with the water soaking her skirts.

"You think that was funny, don't you?" he said offended, trying hard not to laugh.

"No, I thought it was hilarious!" she snorted.

He gave in and joined her laughter. After a minute they began to relax and he looked at her.

"You know, you're absolutely beautiful" he said softly.

"Why thank you" she said stunned.

"You remind me so very muchof a girl I once knew" he said.

"Really? A friend of yours?" she asked, tucking her wet curls behind her ears.

"She was much more than a friend, I loved her with all my heart. She was not much older than you are when I asked her to marry me" he said, his eyes filling with tears.

"What happened?" Adora whispered.

"She left. She didn't love me. She kissed me and left to marry someone else. It was probably best that way, he was closer to her age and they loved each other" he said with a weak smile.

"I'm sure she loved you, maybe she was just confused" Adora tried.

"No, believe me. She didn't love me" he sighed.

"Why would she kiss you if she didn't love you just a little? she frowned.

"It's complicated, I think the kiss was just a trick to get me to let her go. I really don't want to get into this now" he said.

"Well, I think she loved you" Adora said determinedly

"Thank you sweetheart. Now we should get out of the water, you'll end up catching a cold" he said and helped her out of the fountain.

'Did you really love me Christine?' What Adora had said had made several thought spin in his head. 'Did I scare you so much that you were afraid to show it?' He fingered the ring and then kissed it before putting it away.

"Keep an eye on him lads, we don't want any incidents tonight" Zidler said seriously and gestured towards the man at the bar.

"Who is he?" Erik quietly asked Francoise when Zidler had left.

"He's some great businessman, but he's the one who beat the crap out of Rosa one night because she wouldn't do what he told her. He's sick" Francoise said with disgust.

Erik eyes the man. He was short and had ugly blood-shot eyes. Though it was still fairly early in the night he was already drunk. He was certainly one to watch out for.  
As the night proceeded Erik's predictions turned out to be true. He had just said good night to Adora and watched her move towards the staircase when the little man blocked her way. Erik saw how she tried to avoid him, but she obviously didn't succeed. Before he knew what was happening the man had grabbed her and started dragging her up the stairs. Erik was on his feet in seconds and raced to the stairs. With strong hands he freed Adora from the man's grasp and sheltered her behind him before he grabbed the man's throat.

"You will never again lay a hand on her or any of these girls!" he hissed, his eyes shooting daggers at him.

"Who are you?" the man whined with whatever little sound that could make it passed the strong hold Erik had on his windpipe.

"You do not wish to know! If I ever see you here again you will be dead before you ever figure out who I am. Do I make myself clear?" he growled, adding justa littlemore pressure to his throat.

The man nodded and with satisfaction Erik noticed the wetness that pooled around the man's feet.  
Roughly he gave him a shove that nearly made him tumble down the stairs and he almost ran to the door.  
He turned to Adora and touched her cheek gently. "Are you alright?" he asked with concern.

She nodded. "I'm fine, thank you Erik" she whispered.

"Anytime my love, now go and change your clothes" he said and kissed her cheek gently.

Hours later the guests had left and Erik was alone in the dance hall. He sat at the piano playing a tune from old days. He was so absorbed in the memories the music triggered in him than he didn't hear the person approaching him.  
He felt her presence before he saw her, her gentle hand softly running down his left cheek.

"Christine…" he whispered in his trance.

Then in the space of a second time was turned several years back. He was back in the cellar under the Opera and yet again a young curly haired woman stood beside him. Yet again she was holding the white mask in her hands.

"No!" he roared and his hand flew to the right side of his face. His other hand lashed out and connected painfully with her cheek sending her tumbling the floor.

"You devilish curious witch! You filthy little brat! Leave this instant" he bellowed at her.

Once the young woman had remained on the floor, watching him and crying for what she had done. This time she threw the mask on the floor, scrambled to her feet and ran for the door.

He gave in to his tears and picked up the mask. 'What had he done?' Only hours ago he had stopped someone from hitting her. Now he had been the one to slap her hard. She would never trust him after this. He had repeated the same mistake all over again. Clutching the mask close to his chest he remained on the floor and wept.


	8. Morning

**The Phantom of the Red Mill **

by LiltingBanshee

**A/N: Just a short one to get you through the rest of the weekend:)**

He awoke after a restless night, thoughts and tears had kept him awake and he felt no joy at the rays of early morning sun that shone through his window.  
He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. Slowly he got dressed while thinking about how he was going to face Adora this morning. He felt so bad about hitting her. The hurt look in her eyes had plagued his dreams all night and he wished with all his heart that she would forgive him.  
There was no getting around it; she was probably already downstairs cleaning so he thought he would go down and help her and hopefully get things talked through.

The dance hall was empty and there was no sign of anyone cleaning up. He sighed; she had probably overslept if she had returned home late after having run from him last night. He went to the kitchen to boil some water, he would go wake her up and then help her with the cleaning.

No one answered when he knocked on the door. Thinking she was still sleeping he carefully entered the room. The bed sheets were rumbled, but there was no sign of her anywhere. Feeling his heart sink he placed the teacups on the table and looked around the room.

"Adora, are you in here?" he asked to the empty room, already knowing he would receive no answer.

"Good morning Erik." He whirled around to see Rosa standing in the doorway, yawning and scratching her tangled hair.

"Good morning Rosa, have you seen Adora" he asked.

"Isn't she downstairs doing her chores?" Rosa said and leaned against the doorframe.

"No, I just checked. I can't find her anywhere" he said with concern in his voice.

"Maybe she has gone to see her mother, she sometimes does that early in the morning" Rosa shrugged.

"To see her mother?" Erik was puzzled.

Rosa nodded and yawned again. "In the cemetery, you should try there."

Erik was on his way to the stairs nearly before she finished her sentence, but then suddenly stopped.

"What cemetery does her mother lie in?" he asked.

"Cimetiere de Montmarte Erik" Rosa said with a little smile.

He walked among the gravestones for a while, it was a rather large cemetery, but there weren't too many visitors in the early morning hours.  
Then he saw her, sitting in front of a little gravestone. He carefully walked closer, trying not to startle her. She seemed so small as she sat there, the blue satin dress she was wearing hung loosely on her body and he could hear her crying.  
As he came closer he could hear her speaking in between her sobs.

"I'm so sorry Maman, I made a terrible mistake. You told me never to touch the mask and I still went ahead and did it. Please forgive me Maman, let him for give me…" she cried.

He was standing only a few feet from her. He didn't know if she could feel his presence, but he didn't care. The only thought in his head was about what he had just heard her say. His eyes traveled from her back to the writing on the gravestone.

She could feel him close behind her and she knew what he was looking at. It was only a matter of seconds before his reaction would come.

"You're Christine's…" he gasped.


	9. At Cimetiere de Montmartre

**The Phantom of the Red Mill **

by LiltingBanshee

**A/N: Sorry for the evil cliffie, here's the update:)**

She turned around and looked at him, her eyes wet and puffy and the tears came so quickly they gathered and dripped from her chin. She nodded once and turned back to the gravestone.

His head was spinning. His Christine was dead. Dead! Buried in the cold ground and her daughter was working at the Moulin Rouge. No! This was not how it was supposed to be!  
He lowered himself to the ground next to the crying girl.

"But…if your mother is Christine Daáe, then your father must be…"

"The Vicomte de Chagny" Adora finished his sentence.

"That was not how things were supposed to be. Whatever happened to your family?" he asked, wiping a few of his own tear away.

Adora didn't answer him, instead she handed him an envelope she had been clutching in her hands.

He looked at her questioningly and she gestured for him to go on. He reached into the envelope and pulled out several handwritten pages. They were worn, as a result of being read many times, but the writing was still as clear as ever.

_Adora,  
My darling child. When you are reading this I will no longer be by your side to love and protect you, but remember that I will always be watching over you no matter where you go.  
Remember your name my love, it means 'beloved' and that is what you will always be to me.  
The day you were born light and hope were once again brought into my life and I wish I could have been there to watch your grow up to be the beautiful clever woman I know you will be._

_I scared of dying my love, not of death itself, but I am afraid of what will happen to you when I am no longer on this earth. You know I lost my mother before I got to know her, but I was so lucky to have a loving gently father to look after me. I am so truly sorry that I could not provide you with a father who will love and look after you when I am gone._

_I did love your father, but I mistook the affections I had for him. He was a part of my childhood, a part of the past that reminded me of the days where my father was alive. In my desperation to once again feel close to my father I believed I was in love with him.  
It could have been good if he had not changed so drastically after the wedding and I often wish you had not been forced to live with parents who did not love each other.  
You should not have been Raoul de Chagny´s child, my darling girl. You should have been some one else's.  
I know you remember the stories I told you about the Angel of Music that turned out to be a man. The man that I truly loved._

_You know about the night of the fire at the Opera Populaire and you know that I left my Angel, Erik, behind in the underground lair.  
I will forever regret that I did not make a different choice that night and I have lost count of the times I have wished Erik was your father.  
I would never have feared to leave you with a father like him._

_I do not know where my Erik is today. I know he has been said to be dead, but I refuse to believe that. Till this day I hope he has found happiness somewhere.  
I hope that you will one day meet a man like him my dear. A man that loves you unconditionally. If you do, promise me that you will never repeat my mistakes. If you love him do not be afraid to admit it, regardless of what faults he might have. Never judge a person by the way they look on the outside, because they may turn out to have the most beautiful soul._

_My beloved daughter, my time is running out. Promise me you will stay the cheerful, caring girl you were born to be.  
You are not a de Chagny, you do not belong in that shallow stuck up world.  
You are a Daáe. Carry on your family name and know that I will always love you._

_Your devoted mother  
Christine Daáe._

Erik let the letter fall into his lap, covered his face with his hands and wept.  
He cried for years of lost love and for the death of the only woman he had ever truly loved.  
He felt a pair of small arms wrap around him.

"Don't cry Erik. She loved you, she really did" Adora soothed.

That only made him cry even harder and he felt her rub his back and trail small kisses down his cheek.  
After a while he relaxed and smiled weakly at her as he wiped away his tears.

"So you knew who I was all along?" he sniffed.

She nodded. "The first morning you came to the Moulin Rouge you called out for Christine in your dreams and I knew you were truly the Angel Maman always talked about."

Erik remembered that morning – and the dream. "I dreamt she was unhappy, that her family was taken away from her. I have had dreams like that for years, but I always told myself that she was living happily with the Vicomte" he sighed.

"She was happy at times. Like when I was born and when she was singing while my father was away working. She was also happy when she told me about her life at the opera house and the times she had spent with you" Adora said.

Erik smiled at the memories. "How did she…?" he asked, gesturing at the gravestone.

"Consumption. When I was 10. It is not just a disease that kills among the outcasts. I think my father brought it back from the brothels he visited…"

"He cheated on her?" Erik exclaimed.

"After I was born Maman said she would not sleep with him anymore. She didn't want to bring more children into an unhappy marriage. She said he could do what he wanted to do, as long as it wasn't with her. They had many fights about it and when he got really bad she would lock the door to her room and we would stay in there singing songs and telling stories until he left" Adora explained.

Erik felt anger rising inside him. That bastard had killed Christine! His beautiful Christine was dead because of her husband's deceit.

"I only hope what he is dead by now too" Adora said, voicing Erik's thoughts.

"Why did he have her buried here? In Montmartre?" Erik asked.

"Montmartre is a sinful place. It was the most unworthy place he could think of. He said she belonged with the other whores and thieves. That is why I came here when he threw me out. I wanted to be close to Maman" Adora said tearfully.

They shared a quiet moment and then Adora turned to him. "Erik I'm really sorry I ripped off your mask. I should never have done that, can you forgive me?" she asked quietly.

"Of course I forgive you, and I apologize for lashing out at you, I didn't mean to" he said.

"All forgiven" she smiled at him.

"Adora I have a confession to make. A few months ago I was walking to my room when I passed your open door. I truly did not mean to do so, but I stole a glance inside and I caught a look at you changing your clothes. I know I shouldn't have and I fully understand if you're angry with me, but I…I saw these" he grabbed her right hand and rolled up her sleeve to reveal the red marks. "I know they cover more of your body and I know you're trying to hide them. I am so ashamed that I looked at you without your consent and…"

"No Erik, don't apologize. I want you to know about them" she cut him off.

"Were you born with them?" he nearly whispered.

She shook her head. "About 9 months after Maman's death I was running through the house. As I came into the kitchen I accidently knocked over a pot of boiling water. It soaked the right side of my dress and ruined the skin" she said.

"Didn't anyone come to help you?" he asked shocked.

"The kitchen maid panicked and just stood there screaming and when my father came to see what the fuss was all about he just looked at me and said that would teach me not to run in the kitchen. Luckily the stable boy heard the screaming and sent for the doctor, but I still got terribly burned. All I wanted was my mother and she wasn't there. When the burns turned to permanent scars my father said he had seen enough scarred creatures in his life and threw me out. I lived on the streets for a few weeks, sleeping here by Maman's grave. Then one day Rosa found me and brought me to the Moulin Rouge where Zidler and his mother took me in. The rest of the story you know" she said, fresh tears running down her cheeks.

Now it was Erik's turn to hug her close to him and comfort her.

"Brave little girl, life has been too cruel to you. Don't fear anymore, I love you, I will take care of you" he whispered.

"Will you?" she hiccupped against his chest.

"Always" he promised.

"Thank you Erik, I love you too" she sniffed.

He felt her reach for his hand and felt something metallic touch his finger. He looked down and saw she had pushed a plain golden band onto his finger.

"What is that?" he asked surprised.

"It is my Grandfather, Gustave Daáe´s, wedding ring. Maman is buried with her mother's ring on her finger. The night before she died she gave this to me and told me that if I ever met you I should give it to you. She couldn't be married to you when she lived, but she wanted to be soin death" Adora whispered.

Erik struggled to hold back the tears, but failed. "Thank you Adora. Thank you for being your mother's daughter and bringing love back in my life" he cried.

She just smiled at him and they sat together till his tears had subsided.

"We should go back. I will help you with your chores so you won't get in trouble" he said.

"Thank you Erik. Zidler's mother rests here as well, I will just go and put a flower on her grave. Would you like a moment alone with your wife?" she asked.

He smiled gratefully at her and she left him alone. He moved over and kissed the gravestone. "Thank you Christine, for coming back to me. I love you with all my heart and always will. You can rest peacefully now; I will take care of your child. I will look out for her, love her and be by her side until the day I shall once again be with you in Heaven."

**There will be one more chapter, hope you enjoyed this. **


	10. Epilogue

**The Phantom of the Red Mill **

by LiltingBanshee

**A/N: I am so so sorry for the long wait! I can't believe the week I've had! In total I have probably spent about 5 hours in my house and have had absolutely no time for writing.  
Hopefully you will forgive me and enjoy the last chapter.  
Thanks to phantomann, des ires, Twinkle22, smgirl, Mominator and erikphan24601 for your kind reviews, they were much appreciated:)  
To those of you who are following my story "How could I be so stupid?" I will try to update as soon as I can:)**

They said they came from a country in the North, Sweden to be precise.  
The wonderful violinist and the beautiful little girl who traveled by his side and had the voice of an angel. They amazed people, the gentle man that had such talent for playing and the little girl with her big brown eyes and long dark curls who sang in the clearest voice they had ever heard. They were asked to play for parties and functions and the young man gratefully accepted the jobs, for he was the only one the little girl had to care for her.  
They said he had lost his darling wife in childbirth, but instead of succumbing to the grief he felt, he had accepted his responsibility of taking care of their daughter. They were inseparable; as much as he adored his little girl it was equally evident in her eyes how strongly she was bound to her father.  
No one really knew what became of them, but one day the wonderful music was no more.

Only a handful of people knew what happened to Christine Daáe the day her father died. There were rumors that that she made a great singing career for herself, but no one ever really made the connection between the young beauty who graced the stage of the Opera Populaire for only a short while and the little girl in the streets who had captured many hearts with her beautiful singing.

No one truly knew where they came from. The mysterious masked man who played wonderful violin and the beautiful young woman who traveled by his side and had the voice of an angel.  
They said they were father and daughter, tightly bound together by their mutual grief for the loss of their wife and mother. People were amazed by them when they heard them playing in the streets.  
They were asked to play for parties and they both gratefully accepted the jobs as they only had each other to care for them.  
At some occasions curious people would question the white mask the older man wore. Some would even attempt to get a closer look and maybe see what was beneath it, but they would never succeed, as the fire in the young woman's eyes would make them regret ever thinking about it.  
One morning the streets of Paris were unusually quiet. The same thing occurred the following morning and the next. No one could really tell you why, but if they had listened closely they would have know they lacked the sound of a sad violin and an Angel's voice.

"Christine! Not so fast darling, we have to wait for Papa" the young woman's voice rang out over the cemetery and caused the little girl to stop and turn.

"But Maman, I want to see grand-pére and grand-mére" the little girl whined.

The woman scooped the girl up in her arms and rested her on her hip. "And you soon will chéri, but you do know that Papa can't walk very fast" she reasoned.

"Ah do go ahead, I will catch up" the young man's voice caused a smile to play of the woman's lips and she reached out a hand to rest on his arm.

"Never my love, I will never run ahead without you" she whispered.

Arnaud turned and looked at his wife. She was the most amazing woman he had ever met. He still, after 5 years of marriage, could not believe he had been lucky enough to win her love.  
When the horrible accident had cost him the lower part of his left leg he had given up hope of ever finding love. For who would ever love a crippled man like him?  
But then her had met _her_. Traveling along side her father, earning their money by playing music for people. He had fallen in love with her instantly, but why would she ever look twice at him?  
Now, 5 years later he was blessed with a wife and a darling daughter and with a silent prayer he looked to the sky and thanked the masked man for trusting him to take care of his daughter.

Adora Daáe Du Thil softly placed the two red roses on the graves, one on each. Tightly hugging her young daughter to her she smiled at the gravestones.

_Christine Daáe  
Loving wife and mother_

_Erik Daáe  
Loving husband and father  
Our Angel of Music_

After a while she rose to her feet and held her daughter's hand in hers as she smiled sadly. "Good bye for now my beloved parents, I shall see you soon" she whispered and blew a kiss at the stones.  
Arnaud put a hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek gently. She smiled weakly at him and they turned to leave.  
They walked through the Cimetaire de Montmartre, the little family of three. The beautiful woman with her long dark curls flowing down her back, the young gentle man with his crutches and the little curly haired girl who skipped along beside them. None of them looked back at the graves they had just left, but if they had they would have seen the ray of sun that graced them for only a second.  
They were not alone. In heaven two figures were smiling and would always be watching over them.


End file.
